Damn Them
by Shadou-sama
Summary: Their laughter cuts through me. They're laughing at me, at the way they defeated me. How dare they.
1. Damn Him

Their laughter cuts through me. They're laughing at me, at the way they defeated me. How dare they.   
  
Just minutes ago I was in battle. I was beating down that annoying pre-schooler they call Tyson. He and his dragoon had no where to run, no way to defend. How did it end up like this? His friends. Only the weak need teammates, need friends. Teammates hide weaknesses. How could I lose? That tiny kid, I don't even know his name, yelled at my opponent a strategy, a way to defeat me.   
  
Their cheering, I almost forgot about their cheering. All through that damn match they cheered for that pre-schooler, even when he was losing. Why did they keep encouraging him? It looked impossible for him to come back. No one does that, they only stick by you when you're winning, when they have something to gain. What kind of people are they?  
  
He cheated, he must have. That's the only answer. Their laughter tears at my very soul. He cheated, he cheated. He must have cheated. They have stopped laughing. But what comes next is even worse.   
  
They talk about the match, how Tyson came back. He cheated, he cheated, there's no other way. They praise him for coming above me. He cheated, he cheated. Can't they see that? I'm on my knees, I can't see them. I have fallen from battle, crawling on my hands and knees like a common dog. He cheated, he must have cheated.   
  
They're laughing again. They're so cruel. He cheated. Did my friends betray me and help him? No. I have no friends. No one in the world. I don't need friends. Maybe... NO! I DON'T NEED FRIENDS! I rely on myself, only myself. I can't rely on anyone else, trust no one else. They'll betray me. That's what friends really are, humans at the phase before betrayal. I don't need friends. He cheated.  
  
What, what's he doing? He's walking over? To rub it in, no doubt. Cruel, cruel boy. He's stopped, I wait for the final blows. I wait... I wait... I look up. His hand is outstretched. What's he doing? Is he trying to humiliate me once again. He cheated, he cheated, he will try to abash me again. I faintly hear words, what he's saying. Good battle? Yes, for him it was. He cheated, he won. Learned a lot? He doesn't make any sense. Nothing about him makes any sense to me. Let him help me up? Why would he do something like that? He's only luring me into some trap, don't trust, don't trust him. Just leave me alone! I want to scream at him. He's only trying to rub it in. Leave me alone! You won, I lost! You cheated. He stands there waiting. The others, his friends, watch expectantly. Let him help me? I DON'T NEED HIS HELP! I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S HELP. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can't remember the last time I cried. I don't cry. I DON'T CRY! He's looking at me funny. Probably wondering why I'm lowering myself to crying. DAMN TEARS! He says something about wanting to be my friend. Friend. I don't need any friends. Friends are for the weak. I lost. I lost. Does that make me weak? No. I'm not weak. He only beat me because he cheated. That damned boy is still standing there. He won't leave. He repeats, let him help me up. This time, I answer.  
  
"Just leave me alone." I mutter. He looks taken aback. I repeat my words. One of the other boys calls him back over. They start laughing again. They leave me to my misery. They leave me, the ones who wanted to be my friends. I don't need friends, I don't need help. He cheated, he must have to beat me. He cheated. There laughter cuts through me, jagged and painful. It rips my very soul. Damn them. 


	2. Hatred But Tolerance

I can only hear that buzz, that deafening buzz, that drops the senses into a stupor and forget hearing anyone call. Too many people for my tastes, but I'll endure it for now. The more distractions for these slow-witted merchants the better.   
I'm walking down a street that is really more of a market place. Stores are spilling out onto the pavement. Rush hour, when everyone in the whole damned town decides it would be the perfect time to do their shopping. They never seem to get it through their thick heads that everyone else goes out then too. I've been watching this street for a week, I've observed that the street is nearly empty except for this one hour. Morons. Thickheaded flaming morons. But today, I am grateful for their stupidity.   
The thick mass pushes me towards a vendor. A cart filled with apples, oh good. From my observations I know who owns the cart, that big blonde idiot who is currently distracted, probably trying to rob his customer by unfairly high prices. I consider what I'm about to do a justice rather then a crime. My hand darts out to snatch an apple. I quickly stuff it into the twenty-cent hand-me-down backpack my foster parents oh so thoughtfully gave me. No cry of thievery arises. I glance around at the surrounding crowd. No one is watching; no one is even casually glancing in my direction. Good. I move on.   
My foster parents... maybe they've noticed I'm gone. Maybe they miss me... When pigs fly, perhaps. I hadn't left a note. But this was better; it had given me more time. A week, maybe even two before they noticed. It had given me enough time to escape five towns north. They probably haven't called in my disappearance, faked my presence to get more government cheques. The greedy pigs.   
I left because of my defeat at the hands of that cheating pre-schooler. No, he isn't even a pre-schooler; he's a toddler, an infant. I left to get better, to become a master beyblader. Tyson, oh how I loathe him words cannot describe. His laughter, their laughter... I still hear it. It still slices my cold soul with blazing sabers. Now, right now, I hear it... It's clearer, external like it isn't from my imagination but coming from the surrounding world... Tyson, that damned moronic baby, is here in this very street.   
I see him now; he's on the other side of the street. He's with his damned friends, those strange creatures. The friends who wouldn't stop cheering even when that toddler lay in certain defeat. Maybe he won't see me. I don't want to talk to him; I don't want to be near him. It disgusts me to be in the same town as he.   
I'm hurrying away, keeping invisible within the crowd. I see an alley up ahead, it's so close, and it's such a perfect escape. Why am I running away? He cheated; he's no threat to me. Yet, I fear him, or is it something else? It's nothing. I feel nothing. Then why am I running?   
He's calling, he's following. Damn, he has seen me. I ignore him, I hope he takes the hint. Hope? Since when have I hoped? Hope is for the weak. That idiot Tyson... Only a little further. What once was my shield, my fog, is now my hindrance. In the alley, I can fly; I can run and be far in so little precious time. Finally, the alley. I dash into its mouth.   
There's something, something grabbing my arm. I try to twist it free. I just want away. I can't get it free. I turn; it's that gray haired boy, one of Tyson's friends. Damn him. I see that wretched toddler is almost at the alley. I struggle harder. The gray-haired boy holds me tight. He reaches for my other arm. He's asking me why I'm struggling. Why? I don't want to be here. I feel like crying, the feeling I only get when Tyson is involved.   
Tyson is at the alley's mouth. I kick the gray-haired boy in the stomach. He lets go. I sprint away but that gray haired boy, curse him, is faster. He tackles me. My body crashes to the ground, jarring my bones and my vision. I curse at him; he's pinned me to the cement. I can't move, I can't get away.   
Tyson and his other friends approach seconds later.   
"Dude, why'd you run? I only wanted to say hi." that stupid, ugly-faced brat tells me. I growl at him, I glare. He looks taken aback. The gray-haired boy and another, a black-haired boy, pull me to my feet.   
"That's not very nice." A blonde boy says. He looks even stupider then Tyson, if that's possible. Orange overalls? Even I, who has a serious lack of clothes of any quality, am not tempted. I growl at him too. Maybe if I keep at it they'll take the hint. But no, they're bloody ignorant.   
That stupid toddler's stomach growls. His friends look at him exasperated. He looks back sheepishly.   
"Tyson, don't tell me you're hungry. You've already eaten nine courses, and that was just for breakfast." That brown-haired boy, Chief was it? The tiny boy that helped that damn toddler cheat. Wait, what did he say? Nine courses for breakfast? I can't even imagine that much food. My foster parents only fed me enough to keep me alive. Otherwise, I would eat up the profits. My stomach growled just then. I glared at them, daring them to comment.   
"Looks like I'm not the only one who's hungry. Let's go to Cafe Latte." Tyson announces. They look at me, as if asking whether I wanted to come. I don't want to go anywhere with that toddler or his weird friends. But if he's footing the bill... I could use a good meal. I nod. They look happy and lead me back onto the street. Heading, I'm guessing, to that place Cafe Latte. 

The thick aroma of delicious foods envelopes me. It takes all of my might keep me from becoming giddy. Damn I'm hungry. I haven't eaten for two days. The only thing that could spoil this is the fact that I'm with Tyson, the cheating toddler, and those wierd friends of his.   
A waitress dressed in a frilly blue uniform escorts us to a table. I sit down, and a few minutes later I find myself beside Tyson. Curse him, why does he have to sit so close? That gray haired kid, Kai, sits on my other side. I too crowded. I should leave but that aroma and it's promise holds me to the chair.   
That same silly waitress hands me a menu. I don't need one, I would eat anything they set it front of me. She announces that they were offering a buffet today and points over to a corner I hadn't noticed. Tables were piled high with food and it's a buffet! That's what I want, no doubt about it. She asks us if that's what we would like. Everyone agrees. She asks us if there is anything we would like to drink. She is soon quickly scribbling down orders. When it's my turn, I just say water. I don't have time to pick out a beverage, I want the food! IwantitIwantitIwantitIwantitIwantit!   
That silly waitress leaves to fill the order. I jump up and to my utmost horror, feel over onto that stupid toddler who also had jumped up. Everyone laughs. Oh, that laughter, that horrible cruel laughter. But it doesn't matter because we're both up and heading for the buffet table.   
I come back to my table, my plate piled high with food. Everyone, except that brat Tyson whose still pigging out at the buffet tables, stares at me. I don't care, I'm too busy eating. Let them stare. They probably have never known what it was like to be starving and knowing that food was out of reach for not only that day, but the next and the day after that. This feels good, eating and knowing there's more if I want it.   
That blonde kid, Max, makes a joke about my eating habits matching Tyson's, but I don't really hear it because I'm walking back to the buffet. It takes four trips to satisfy my hunger. I'm content now. I don't feel hatred towards these people. I can't, at least not on a full stomach. Maybe that's why they're always laughing and looking happy. Food for thought. I silently laugh at that little joke. It takes many more trips to the buffet table for Tyson to be filled. A few more eating jokes arise but I dismiss them easily in my mind. When there are so much good food right at your fingertips, why shouldn't you eat?   
An old man in a black suit approaches us. The boys exclaim their welcomes to this Mr Dickinson person. He notices me. Mr Dickinson introduced himself, like I couldn't already guess who he was, then asks my name. It takes me some time to remember, but I eventually answer that it's Shade. He looks a bit surprised, but then again, it's a boy's name and I'm not of that gender.   
"So where are you staying tonight, Shade?" Mr Dickinson asks me.   
"Uh..." That food has made me slow-witted. I know exactly where I'm staying, probably in some alleyway, but the words won't form in my mouth.   
"You can stay with us! Can she, Mr Dickinson?" Tyson asked him. That's the last thing I want to do, except maybe if food's involved...   
Mr Dickinson nodded and before I could protest, Tyson announced "Then it's settled, Shade's bunking with us."   
Everyone looks delighted. Then they practically dragged me to the door, leaving Mr Dickinson to pick up the tab. Curses, I don't want to sleep anywhere near them! Damn the food -- no, I can't damn my precious delicious food. Damn them, then. Damn them for coming up with the idea. Damn them. 

Their room, suite I guess it's called, is more extravagant than I had ever imagined. Gold trimmings were found on absolutely everything and all was in white. The setting sunlight slides in threw windows and around the many lilac branches just outside the glass coloring whatever it falls on a dazzling orange. Tall glass doors opened out onto a balcony, if you can call it that. I don't think balconies lie on the ground. Deck I'm thinking. So I'm stunned, who wouldn't be?   
A violent jerk shoves me in through the door. I nearly fall but catch myself. Kai's the violent jerk. He has this stupid superior look on his face and tells me not to stand in the doorframe. I glare at him. I'm only inches away from hissing and scratching. He ignores me and walks into one of the connecting rooms, slamming the door shut. The other Bladebreakers look at me apologetically. I just shrug. It--he's not worth discussing.   
Ray, the raven haired boy, mentions that they'll let me get washed up first. I know why, even if he doesn't consciously know it, that it's because of my life on the streets. You can't keep clean long and it's almost impossible to find places to wash yourself. I'm guessing that he thinks it's because I'm the guest. I don't care, I want to get clean.   
Ten minutes later I walk back out into the main room. My hair is shiny and squeaky, the dirt covering my skin is missing and I changed into clean clothes. Yes, clean clothes. I managed to steal some before the brat pack showed up. And I must admit, they look damn good on me. I see a few jaws drop.   
Tyson comes and grabs my wrist, pulling me out onto the deck, mentioning something like he wanted to show me the view. I quickly dropped my bag by one of the couches. The other boys stay in the main room watching TV. It's beautiful, I tell him.   
"Not as beautiful as you..." Tyson replies. I was startled. This was nothing that I had expected. I look over at him, he's looking away. I notice a thin layer of redness creeping up his neck. Ugh, he better not give that rash to me. The best course of action is to move slowly away from him. Not fast enough to attract his attention but getting away all the same. I start putting this plan into action.   
"I have a feeling that we've met before." Tyson said, he still wasn't looking at me. I stopped moving away.   
"You don't remember?" I ask, unbelieving. How could he not remember?   
"Uh, no. All I remember is thinking how pretty you are and winning something against some pathetic girl." Tyson answered. I can't believe him. I feel my fury, my rage growing in me quickly. It fills every vein, spicing my blood, turning my mind to one task, beating the crap out of him.   
"That 'pathetic girl' is me." I snarl. "You only won because you cheated."   
"How did I cheat?" Tyson asked. He looked like he was getting mad. "I never cheat."   
"Then how did you suddenly win when I had you on your back begging for mercy?" I yell at him. He suddenly gets giggly. He cheated, I know he cheated. The cheating toddler. And now he's laughing. That rash, blush I'm guessing now by how fast it's going. Wait, blush? "What are you so giggly about?"   
"You had me on my back begging for mercy." Tyson said. "Doesn't that sound a bit perverted to you?"   
"What the hell are you talking about?" I yell. I notice that the boys inside are starting to glance in our direction. They're glancing more and more often, every minute passed they look more.   
"You don't get it?" Tyson asked. Then he started looking sly. "We could act it out."   
Suddenly, the words I said come into focus. I know what they mean and how dare that little mother fricking toddler think that about me! He thinks, he thinks, he wants... Argh! It's too disgusting to think about! He's looking at me, probably undressing me with his perverted little brain. I could just kill him about now.   
Isn't it funny that whenever you think you're in the worst situation possible, it gets worse. Damn it, why am I thinking about this now! Tyson had taken me into his slimy little embrace and was kissing me.   
All my strength, please abid me now. I push him as hard as I could away from me. I'm furious. No, beyond furious. That, that, that... I don't think there's any word that can describe who he is. But that doesn't mean I can't call him other names.   
I charge towards the door. I grab my bag and run towards the door. Well, as fast as my pride will allow. Kai has come out of his room to watch the events. I feel like kicking him. The others look surprised. Tyson, the pitiful brat rat, looks hurt and not from the bloody nose he got when his head slammed into the railing.   
Just as I'm about to leave, I turn towards the toddler. "Damn you, toddler. Cursed I name you, flaming moron. You will see me again, but next time... 

"Your blood is mine." 


	3. Blood Lust

Darkness, my friend... You will hide me, won't you? Hide me from eyes unwanted... I creep; I crawl to the window I desire. The shadows will protect me, they will, they will...   
I leap up to the tree branch, and look in through the glass... Is he there? Yes, the damned toddler is there, sleeping soundly in his bed... Is he alone? Yes, yes, he's alone! He's alone! Wait, wait, something's coming, I hear the footsteps. People talking too, in hushed little voices. Trying not to walk up the little toddler. The little snoring toddler. The door opens, creak, and the blonde one Max and the tiny one Kenny come in. He's not alone; he's not alone. Must wait... Must wait... 

I settle myself near the heart of the tree. I can see right into the room. I will wait until Tyson is alone. I must wait...   
The leaves give me cover but, strangely, they do not hinder my view. I thank the gods for this. It will make my task far easier. Tyson's blood will be mine... 

Hours pass, the moon falls and the sun rises, casting the world in her eerie glow. Still, I must wait. I must wait... 

Night falls again. My muscles ache from sitting still too long. I hear chattering, coming from outside. I peer through another break in the leaves. I see a cobblestone path, but more interesting, four boys walking down it. Max, Kenny, Kai and Ray. I jerk my head around to look in the window. Tyson is there, all alone. Oh, lucky, lucky night.   
His back is turned towards me, working on something on a table. I slide along my branch towards the window. I slowly slide the window open. Silently, I move into the room.   
The only light is coming from a lamp on the table. Good, good. It's hard to do evil tasks in the bright light.   
I walk quietly towards him, taking out a rope from my cheap backpack. I unwind it from its coil and keep on moving towards him. Tyson shows no acknowledgement of me. Good, good. I'm standing directly behind him now.   
Quick as a flash, I wind the rope around him, binding him to the chair. He screams and struggles. Oh, goody. His pitiful attempt of escape makes me laugh. I spin the chair around so I can face him.   
"Hello, Tyson." I say. He's white with shock.   
"Shade? W-what? W-why are you--"   
"SILENCE!" I snarl. "Don't talk. It'll just make things worse for you... Actually," I rethink this, "If you want to talk, then tell me how you cheated."   
"I-I didn't cheat." He shaking. How pitiful. And we haven't even begun yet.   
"Don't lie. I know you did." I snarl. My face is an inch from the toddlers. I can see the fear in his eyes.   
"But, I didn't." How utterly stupid. Doing that just makes me angrier.   
"Now, I bet you're wondering why I tied you up." I say. "It's simple, actually. I'm going to make you feel all the pain you have caused me. I'm going to make you suffer..."   
"What did I do?" Tyson asks.   
"You already know..." I rummage around in my backpack and pull out a dagger. A slim blade, sharp, and silver with a twisted copper handle. Beautiful workmanship... For a beautiful task.   
I slash at Tyson's arms. The blood, the sweet blood, starts flowing. I touch it, feel the warm liquid oozing over my fingers. I lick my fingers clean; the rust taste of it giving me shivers of lust...   
The toddler is crying in pain. I laugh at him. A high, horrible, cruel laugh. I slash at his chest. Tyson screams. The red honey flows so sweetly here. It flows, like little rivers down his front. My hand moves to wear Tyson's heart is... The blood is pulsing out of his wounds at the same tempo as his heart. I laugh in joy.   
I want more of it! I slash his legs, slicing deeper then before. Tyson is screaming. The wonderful, oh so delicious honey of the body... It flows faster down his legs, pooling on the floor.   
I sit there for hours watching him, feeling the blood, listening to his pain. I wanted to sit there forever and watch it... All the pain... All the suffering... All the blood...   
Tyson's pulse grows weaker; he is slipping into unconsciousness. I must finish fast; I want him to feel the pain I give him.   
I slash at Tyson's face with my dagger. He screams again, jerked out of his semi-conscious state. This is where the blood is sweetest... I want to stay, and feel it... I fight this urge. I must finish it.   
Out of my backpack comes a bottle of gas. I open it and pour it all over the room.   
"W-what are you d-doing?" Tyson asks weakly.   
I smile. "Oh, you'll see soon enough..." And I pour some of the gasoline onto him. He screams with the pain. Oh, how delicious. But I can't stay and watch.   
"Goodbye Tyson. Have fun in hell." I climb onto the window ledge. I open a matchbook, choosing the lucky match.   
"S-shade, I'm s-sorry." Tyson says weakly. Does he really think I'll stop because he says two worthless words? Blood loss is pulling him into unconsciousness again.   
I light the match, and throw it into the room. I jump from the window ledge onto the branch. There I watch him burn... Burn and die... In bloody pain... 


End file.
